


swallow the wave

by Byacolate



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Always-a-girl!Stiles, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Genderbending, Girl!Derek, Girl!Stiles, Puppy Piles, always-a-girl!Derek, any fic involving Derek Hale with the tag Domestic Bliss is bound to be a little ridiculous, forever alive Erica, into dudes, it gets a little meta, just a little one though, mentions of past genderswap, the Hales aren't half bad at making pop culture references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 16:40:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Byacolate/pseuds/Byacolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I can say without a doubt, you are the hottest Phyllis I’ve ever met. Under fifty.”</p>
<p>or </p>
<p>The one where Stiles and Desiree have managed to achieve a level of domestic bliss to allow for pulling weeds and bubble baths.</p>
            </blockquote>





	swallow the wave

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an anonymous prompt on Tumblr for domestic fluff where fem!Derek and fem!Stiles were established, with bubble baths and playful banter. It called to me, nonnie.
> 
> Minor _Silence of the Lambs_ and _Supernatural_ references, courtesy of the Hales.

“Oh god, we’re so old.”

 

“You’re nineteen,” Desiree scoffed, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. Stiles narrowed her eyes and shoved a handful of dandelions into the garbage bag between them.

 

“Uh, did you miss the fact that we’re spending this gorgeous summer day in the backyard _weeding_? While all our hip, jive turkey friends are lounging poolside or shopping or doing whatever it is the young folk do these days, here we crouch at the peak of the day, gardening. _Gardening_ , Dee. Or should I call you Mavis?”

 

Desiree gave her one of those super dry looks that only spurred Stiles on. “Maud, maybe? Or Gertrude. Yeah, you’re definitely radiating some Gertrudesque vibes there.”

 

“You can call me Phyllis,” Desiree deadpanned, completely uprooting an entrenched bunch of ragweed in one yank and Stiles coughed.

 

“I can say without a doubt, you are the hottest Phyllis I’ve ever met. Under fifty.”

 

“That’s a compliment, right?”

 

“You’re welcome, babe.” Stiles grinned cheekily and Desiree threw a decapitated dandelion at her face.

 

❦

 

Stiles was an idiot with a self-preservation streak the size of a thimble, so Desiree could see the sunburn coming a mile off. By the time Stiles’ shoulders were just the wrong shade of reddish brown, Desiree pointedly pushed herself up and wiped the dirt and weed guts from her hands off on her jeans. Stiles squinted up at her curiously, but didn’t argue when Desiree decided it was lunchtime and hustled her into the house.

 

“Hold up, let me get you a pair of socks or something,” Stiles said, eying Desiree’s dirty feet once they were in the back door to the kitchen. “If Erica sees her freshly mopped floor all filthy with your pawprints, I’ll be slaughtered in my sleep.”

 

“It’s my goddamn house,” Desiree said defensively, but Stiles just shucked her sneakers and laughed.

 

While snatching a pair of slippers upstairs, Stiles also found a bottle of lotion at Desiree’s request, and once they were washed up and lunch was on the stove, the wolf pushed Stiles into a chair. She ordered the tank top be taken off, and after a moment of very mature eyebrow wiggles and suggestive noises, Stiles complied. The pale green shirt was tossed on the table and when Desiree pushed down the straps of her bra, Stiles figured her innuendos might actually pan out. But instead of copping a feel, Desiree reached around and plucked the moisturizer from the table and squirted some into her palm.

 

“I’m not even burnt,” Stiles whined, slumping a little when the cool lotion was spread over her bare shoulders and back.

 

“Exactly the point,” Desiree agreed, rubbing slick little circles over her browned skin. Summer freckles dotted Stiles’ shoulders and arms, and she leaned down to nuzzle the top of Stiles’ head.

 

“I can do this myself, y’know,” Stiles huffed, but Desiree knew the complaining would increase tenfold if left to her own devices. Dee kneaded her thumbs into the nape of Stiles’ neck.

 

“It puts the lotion on its skin -”

 

“Oh my god.”

 

“- Or else it gets the hose again.”

 

“You do that way too well,” Stiles laughed, stretching out her arms over the table. “No more serial killer movies for you, creeper.”

 

“You’re weird, though,” Dee said thoughtfully, stroking her thumb down Stiles’ clavicle to feel the thrum of her pulse. “If I wanted your skin, you’d probably let me have it.”

 

“I mean, if that’s what revs your engine, babe,” Stiles snorted. “We could probably find that warlock again, tell him we actually _want_ to swap bodies this time around -”

 

“I’d rather not. Though... he did friend Isaac on Facebook,” Desiree said with a little shudder.

 

“Oh, come on, you liked it. And I’d rather swap with you again than that one time with Lydia... hold up, Rupert’s on Facebook? He’s like, a million years old!”

 

“Please don’t remind me,” Desiree grunted. “I had to switch with Boyd last time, when that bastard warlock ‘accidentally’ started casting under the influence.”

 

“Dude had an insane stash of absinthe, no joke. Hey, does that one time we were Lydia and Boyd technically count as a foursome, since -”

 

“No, and we agreed never to ponder that again.”

 

“Fair enough.” Stiles sniffed. “It was pretty hilarious to see you try to wield a penis, though. Oh man, but remember that one time that one spell totally turned us into-”

 

“Yes,” Desiree said, squeezing Stiles’ glistening shoulders. “Vividly.”

 

“First time in your life you wanted a dude, right?” Stiles said smugly, tilting her head back to grin up at Desiree. “You were all over me and my temporary peen.”

 

“Your fucking mouth,” Desiree growled, trailing her nose down the upturned bridge of Stiles’. “You were...”

 

“Are you freaking kidding me? You were the hottest dude I’d ever _seen_. Babe, you rocked the scruffy lumberjack pornstar look like nobody’s business. And don't even get my started on your _dick_!”

 

Desiree trailed her nails down Stiles’ neck and chest until her hand was pressed snugly against the human's sternum. Stiles’ grin melted into a soft smile and she reached up, carding her fingers through Desiree’s long hair. “I prefer you like this, dickless though you may be.”

 

“Such a poet,” Desiree huffed, and kissed Stiles once before the leftovers on the stove could burn.

 

❦

 

Cora was the first to return home, dropping her satchel and falling on top of Stiles like the human was actually part of the sofa. She groaned into the cushions and Stiles patted her back consolingly. “There there, young padawan.”

 

“I hate my job,” Cora said, muffled. Stiles tapped out a little beat on her lower back.

 

“You’re a lifeguard, cupcake. Nobody really enjoys that.”

 

“Where’s Dee?” Cora grunted.

 

“Napping. Apparently doing nothing all morning but pulling shit up from the ground really takes it out of her.”

 

“Sounds good. I’m just gonna fall asleep here, ‘kay?”

 

Stiles sighed long-sufferingly. “Well, okay, but you should know I drank an ocean of Fresca about an hour ago, so I might have to pee on you. And then your sister will want to come claim her territory so she’ll pee on _me_. And let me tell you, I’m not as into watersports as one might think.”

 

“Stiles,” Cora hummed, folding her arms under her face and nestling them there, “you are my human and I love you, but you are a great big bag of dicks.”

 

“You and Dee are really delving into the pop culture references today,” Stiles said approvingly, eyebrows raised. “It’s almost like you _weren’t_ raised by wolves.”

 

“How many animal jokes is she up to now?” Erica said from the doorway, kicking off her shoes to come join them on the sofa.

 

“Two,” Cora groaned, bending her knees up so Erica could settle down next to Stiles before dropping them into her lap. “Could you maybe knock me out before I have to hear attempts three through ten?”

 

“Aww, baby wolf, your inner Desiree is showing. Also, the tally is three; you missed a great little gag about paws.” Then she shifted. “But seriously, that Fresca? Yeah, that was a thing, and it’s becoming a bigger thing, and I’ll probably need you to move now.”

 

“Can’t,” Cora grunted, wiggling around to make herself comfortable. Stiles yelped and Erica cackled. “Too wiped. Wait, like, an hour.”

 

“I’m so serious right now, I will pee on everything you hold dear in like, thirty seconds - maybe fifteen, oh man, Cora, Cor-bear, Corrs light, Cora mia, _please_ let me -”

 

Cora let out an exaggerated snore and Stiles wept.

 

❦

 

“Your baby sister is the devil,” Stiles said, planting her hands on her hips as she watched the bathwater run, building up a steady froth of bubbles over the surface. Desiree watched the stream too, adorably drowsy post-nap with heavily-lidded eyes and absolutely nothing on. Sure, they’d showered after lunch, but what was a quiet Monday evening without sharing a nice hot bubble bath with one’s illegally hot werewolf partner?

 

Exactly.

 

“No more so than any of the betas,” Desiree argued halfheartedly, far too sleepy to put any heat into the argument. Stiles petted her hair solemnly.

 

“Unfortunately untrue. None of the puppies have ever tried to make me wet my pants for shits and giggles.”

 

“That just happens accidentally most of the time, huh?”

 

“Does my bladder plight _amuse_ you?”

 

Desiree dropped her chin to Stiles’ shoulder and smiled. “No, dear.”

 

“Don’t you try to appease me, big bad.”

 

“I thought you were gonna call me Phyllis from now on. We’re old, remember?”

 

Stiles leaned over and twisted the knob until the water stopped running and moved to slip out of her shorts and bra. “Nah, sounds too much like phallus. And I think we both know how deeply entrenched I am on the opposing team.”

  
Desiree kissed the back of her neck and stroked Stiles’ stomach for a long, soft moment before she nudged her gently toward the tub. If Stiles was getting in first, that meant Desiree wanted to be the little spoon. Stiles was totally on board with that.

 

Making herself comfortable in the corner of the wide tub, Stiles spread herself out and helped Desiree settle against her, sweeping the wolf's long, dark hair over a shoulder. Stiles rested her cheek against Dee’s head and grinned. “This is so much better than holding your wolfy ass up in a pool for two hours.”

 

Desiree was definitely out of it if all she could do was grunt in response. Stiles’ grin widened and she slid her hand up Dee’s rock-hard abdomen up to her breasts, circling a dark nub under the cover of bubbles. “A million billion times better.”

 

Panting softly and fidgeting under the water, Desiree’s brow drew together in frustration and she whined when Stiles’ other hand made its way down her pelvis to the heat between her thighs and dragged back up, the tease.

 

“ _You’re_ the devil here,” she growled, arching her body up, and Stiles could only laugh.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Fiona Apple's 'Anything We Want': _We started out sipping the water / and now we try to swallow the wave  
>  / and we try not to let those bastards get us down / We don't worry anymore 'cause we know / when the guff comes we get brave / After all, look around / It's happening, it's happening, it's happening now._
> 
> If you are so inclined, feel free to follow [my Tumblr](http://byacolate.tumblr.com/).


End file.
